The Apple Falls Not Far From The Tree
by MoonlessNight27727
Summary: What is the story of Embry's father? What caused him to do what he did: having a son while happily married? The story in his point of view. One-shot. Rated T for slightly suggestive scene.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. (I know, I'm sooo creative with these disclaimer things.)**

**A/N: This is in the POV of Embry's true father, whoever that may be. Since we don't know who it is (Quil Atera, Billy Black, or Joshua Uley), I tried not to say anything that would give it away...I just tried to tell the story as it might have happened. R&R please!!**

They were all so close to finding out.

I never thought it would happen, we both thought that our secret would be kept safe. Little did we know that he would change.

Sixteen years ago, I was out traveling to nearby tribes. It was something that the council periodically did to keep up good relations. I was just coming out of the Makah tribe's council meeting when I saw her.

She had beautiful dark skin and long, silky flowing black hair. She was standing on the side of the road, appearing to be hurt. My heart immediately went out to this young woman. She was special.

I walked over to her, greeted her, and we sat down to talk. She told me her story, about her husband who beat her. He wanted her to have a child, but when she did not conceive he blamed her. She wanted nothing more than to please him. She knew that she could not leave him; she would never have been able to support herself. There were very few jobs for women in the Makah tribe.

As she told me about herself, I found myself becoming increasingly interested in her. I knew it was wrong to feel that way; I had a wife at home, and of course my children. I knew I had to be loyal to them, but this woman, I just could not ignore her.

I asked her if she wanted to come to my hotel room and have dinner. She accepted, saying that her husband would be out late drinking and wouldn't notice her absence.

We got to my small hotel room and I laid out a quick meal for supper. She suggested some wine with dinner, saying that it would help get her mind off of her poor situation. I could not refuse her.

Several glasses of wine later, we laid in bed together. I was not myself. This was not how I was raised, but I could not resist. The next morning, when both of us were sober, I realized the horror of my actions. I quickly packed, preparing to return home. She sat on the edge of the bed and watched me through her tears, also ashamed of her infidelity.

We agreed that we would not see one another again. We knew that if we did it would only lead to horrendous consequences. I left her with my well-wishes.

I returned to my normal life, trying to forget her. My wife and children prevailed in my life. Everything remained as it had been; I planned to take my shameful secret to the grave.

Nearly two years later, I heard of a new arrival in our tribe. The council had been discussing the woman who had come from the Makah tribe. They told of her terrible husband and how she had fled him with their young son. They helped to get this woman a job at the local store.

One day while I was out in the town, I saw her. I immediately recognized her, even after two years. She was the woman that I met on my trip.

She had seen me as well and she came up to talk to me. She carried her son. We made small talk, not daring to look into each others' eyes. She talked about her son, Embry. The woman told me of how she fled her husband and came here to find me.

I asked her why she chose to find me. Her answer startled me greatly. Embry was my son. Her husband had learned of her infidelity and that Embry was the result of it. He threatened to hurt the child and she was worried for her son so she brought him where he would be safe.

She was in financial trouble. Embry was my son, and I knew I had to support him. But I could not let my wife know of my lapse in faithfulness.

The woman gave me her address, and I promised to send her money periodically to help with Embry's clothing and food expenses. She gratefully accepted.

I went sixteen years of sending her money every month. We never spoke again after that day.

I got to see Embry grow up. He went to the local school, and he knew my son. The rest of the tribe stayed in the dark; everyone assumed that his father was the man that his mother left so many years ago.

Until he changed.

The legends say that young boys in their late teens will change into werewolves to protect the Quileute tribe from the Cold Ones when their presence is necessary. My son was changed, as was Embry.

If Embry's father had not been Quileute, he would not have changed. The werewolves are only from our tribe. This brought up much confusion among the pack; they had not known that he had Quileute blood. The boys knew that his father had to be either me or one of two other fathers of boys in the pack. At the time Embry was conceived, all three of us were married.

It pained me to keep it a secret. My son never knew that he had a half-brother out there and Embry never knew me as his father. But I couldn't let anyone know. I would be forever ashamed.

It was only a matter of time until they found out.

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